


Perfection

by Rainah (orphan_account)



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: F/M, not particularly shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Rainah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toper is quickly losing interest with his work at the dollhouse until Adelle gives him an unexpected gift: the chance to imprint a doll to be anything he desires only once a year. But can you forget all of that perfection every other day of the year?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfection

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for the whedonverse secret santa on tumblr.

When he'd arrived the dollhouse had seemed impossibly exciting. In need of major upgrades, yes, and sorely lacking in video games, but full of possibility. In school he had resigned himself to underfunded government projects and tight deadlines; In the dollhouse he could create as he pleased, pushing the laws of science and humanity just to see how far they would go.

He improved their technology a hundredfold - actives were in and out in five minutes, required far less handing prior to an imprint or wipe (A necessary thing with some of the personalities they sent out) and with far less pain. Topher liked that. He wasn't hurting them, he was making them better.

Quickly, though, he reached the limits of what they wanted. He had improved on their technology and they could have what they wanted faster and easier. They didn't want anything else. And Topher began to get bored.

Each day they came in, seven or eight actives throughout the day following their handlers like baby ducklings. Topher would sigh, turn around, and ask what they wanted this time.

"World class ballerina capable of dancing all of swan lake"

"Dominatrix again, but really into humiliation"

"Dumb and attracted to fedoras"

It got a little boring. There really were only so many variations on human needs, and over the years Topher had seen them all. Even the interesting cases, the ones that required him to cobble together a new personality, eventually faded into dullness.

"Got it." He would say, and load the doll up with a new personality.

"You need some time above ground." Saunders told him, after he'd finished wiping his 4th doll of the day. "Call your family. See regular people."

"I don't have family and outside gives me hives." Topher shot back. The old man meant well, but he didn't _understand_. No one did.

Saunders just frowned and walked away, but it was less than a week after that Adelle called him into her office. 

"I want to run some tests on the equipment."

"Okaaay?" _It works fine. I should know._ He'd designed the majority of it.

"Take a doll, program them, and ensure they follow their programming. We don't want any...glitches in the system." She paused, glancing over at him. "Tomorrow is your birthday, is it not?"

"Yes" Of course they had that information.

"Take the day off to do your testing." She said easily. "And use Whiskey. She needs some time off of active duty."

And that was it. He had a day to imprint their number one active to do anything he wanted. So the question became: How do you create a perfect human?

Everyone would have a different answer, of course. Smart or stupid or something in between, video games or Mozart or baseball games. His fingers began flying over keys, bringing up different elements and discarding most of them. She would have to be _perfect_ , not some rush job because he wanted it right away.

Smart, that was a given, but she had to be the right _kind_ of smart. He pulled up some of their most intelligent imprints: A rocket scientist, a Nobel prize winner, a man who could recite the collect works of Shakespeare from memory. None were right. Finally he settled on the imprint of a high-level tech employee, the kind that he'd normally have very little to do with. Add it with a touch of free spirit, a love of engaging conversation, and a strong sense of optimism. He tweaked it for the rest of the afternoon, whenever he wasn't busy imprinting another Dream Girlfriend. 

The day after he summoned Whiskey. Perfectly docile, she lay back into the chair as the imprint took. "Whiskey?"

"Let's play!" She chorused back to him, a wide smile breaking out.

"I have leaks of the latest games." Topher told her, grinning back.

"Including final fantasy?"

"But of course." He helped her off the chair. Before he could blink she was ruffling his hair.

"You look like a scruffy nerf herder."

"Star wars, I like that." He followed her towards the television set. "Who's scruffy looking? Er, Aren't you going to give me a goodbye kiss princess?"

"It's 'afraid I was gonna leave without a goodbye kiss'" Whiskey parroted back perfectly. "And I'd sooner kiss the wookie!" She danced off to grab beers.

It was almost like heaven. He showed her his games, and she nearly beat his scores in some of them. She had seen every episode of every show he could think of. She actually _beat him_ in chess and Topher thought _wow_ because that may be the first time anyone's ever done that. And when he ordered them pizza she stuck a candle in it, singing him happy birthday.

"I need another day to finish the imprint." He told Adelle breathlessly. "To check the frontal cortex's response to-"

"If you cannot do a simple test in twenty four hours there is an obvious problem with your work ethic." Adelle was having none of it. "And I need to send Whiskey back out. She has an engagement booked. I trust you haven't had her do anything _too_ strenuous?"

 _It's not like that_. He tries to say. _She's a doll. She's a doll and it's wrong._ That was a line he wasn't willing to cross. It was illogical though, so he kept his mouth shut and let her think what she wanted. He's not about to admit that when given the chance to make a perfect woman all he wanted to make was a friend.

"Nothing too strenuous, unless you count some manic gaming." He said instead, miming a gun. She didn't react.

"Thankfully, we don't. Wipe her and send her back. And Topher?"

"Yes?" He drawled.

"You have a birthday every year you know."

"Thank you for informing me."

But next year he was given another active. Whiskey was on assignment so he put the imprint in November. "It'll have to be the Topher imprint I guess, if we're putting it in different actives." Though he tweaked it so November would know her name, rather than calling her _Whiskey_ again.

"God I need a beer." She said immediately, and Topher was happy to get her one.

There were complications he hadn't anticipated. To say nothing of the pain of knowing them for only one day a year, now he was _attached_ to them. Attachment was bad, very bad. He imprinted them the other 364 days a year to be lawyers, specialists or whores without consideration. 

He doubted Adelle would give him the same active twice. But was it better to have one strong bond or several weaker ones? He saw Whiskey from the balcony and he he could think of was the way she sang him 'Happy Birthday'. He imprinted November as a forgetful party girl and remembered that she once beat a computer in chess.

It's only a few weeks after his birthday that Alpha attacks. Whiskey is cut, people are _dead_ and Topher can't help but think this is entirely his fault. It was his wipe that sent Alpha to crazy town, and he was unable to stop it.

"She still has years left on her contract." Adelle mused. "God what a disaster. Saunders is dead. Samuelson is dead, and god knows how many actives."

"At least they didn't know enough to be afraid." Topher replied. He was in shock, probably. _November's alive. Whiskey was, god, god Whiskey was-_

"They were under our protection." Adelle's eyes were hard. "They trusted us, placed their lives in our hands. And now they will never wake up."

They watched Whiskey for a moment, lying comatose as her face was stitched up. "I guess I'd better get her original imprint." Topher said after a moment.

"Wait." Adelle held up a hand. "It occurs to me that we do need another physician. Someone trustworthy, and dedicated to our actives."

"You can't." Whiskey was an active. They would have to wipe her constantly - unless Topher did something ingenious. He'd never done a long term imprint before. But it could be done, theoretically, and who better than him? Who better than Whiskey, their number 1? It would be easier than what she had been doing.

"She can still leave when her term is over, as agreed upon." Adelle said. "She will just be performing another function for us."

Topher looked at her, the girl sitting on the table with gashes on her face. He could just barely hear the notes of a breathy "happy birthday". "Give me three hours."

"You have four."

How do you create the perfect women? If you're Topher, she's already almost there. You just give her laserlike focus and compassion for all living things. Enough phobias to keep her in the dollhouse. A strong head, to make sure she could enforce that compassion. Extra skills, because a woman like Claire Saunders would surely have picked some up. And above all an aversion to Topher. He didn't need a friend anymore, he needed an opponent.

She would watch him now. He had created her for it, to be his perfect opponent. She would ensure this never happened again.


End file.
